


About Time

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Budding Love, Confessions, M/M, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Damian's planned out a way for him to be completely truthful about who he has always been.





	About Time

**Author's Note:**

> For #JayDamiWeek - Day 4: Rooftop Confessions  
> Beta: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Go To War" by Nothing More

The incoming storm will be one for the books, of that Damian is certain. Gotham's wind is rough all the way up here. It pushes through his hair and rips at his cape in ways that make him feel like the ground would be a safer place for this; but he's planned this for months, carefully orchestrated all of the players to be exactly where they are tonight and he has no desire to repeat this tedious process with the chance of getting caught just because the weather isn't cooperating.

He huffs out an annoyed little breath, _knows_ it's drowned in the rush of air thirty stories from the ground.

One gloved hand grips the ledge a little tighter and he fights down the shiver that seems to start in his gut, working its way up until the slightest twitch of his shoulders would give him away if anyone were here to witness it. 

Closing his eyes, he waits. He waits as if this is all he's ever been able to do.

\--

Alone and out of the way, his entire world slowly culminates without him somewhere down below. 

_Proof_.

It's all he's ever needed: to know that his comm isn't crackling to life with pleas of help; to know that the device that keeps track of their heart rates hasn't told him anyone's in trouble just yet. 

_To know they can do without him_.

He hears the first call come in. Father has taken down the onslaught of Talons Damian has carefully manipulated him into finding over the past two weeks. He doesn't even sound winded and, well, that's _impressive_ in a myriad of ways. But that's Bruce.

The wind howls around him, nearly drowns out the disconnect signal of Bruce's comm. He _almost_ misses the crackle of the line that means Cassandra has taken out the few members of the League that Damian's been tracking for _months_. He hears the quiet breath of her voice informing where the pickup is and the disconnect is clearer than Bruce's in the lull of the winds around him.

It's almost half an hour before the line crackles again and this time it's Tim, letting Oracle know he's finally broken through the AI he's been buried elbow deep in for three weeks. Damian's doing _of course_. Present him something to pick at, that he can't let go of, and Damian needn't worry about being found out by the most perceptive of them. His test buried in the background noise instead of presented on the blaring marque of the foremost part of Tim's mind. 

He barely has time to disconnect before Jason's voice is on the line, mechanically altered to let Oracle know he's finally pulled all the right strings and the newest hard hitting drug won't be coming to Gotham's streets. It's been confiscated and rounded up by their most trusted officers within GCPD and they know it'll be disposed of before the night is gone. 

It takes him twenty minutes to convince himself to move. When he does, he pushes himself up from the wall, turns and faces the city, squares his shoulders, and makes the hardest decision he's ever had to. 

Reaching up, he pulls the comm from his ear, slowly closes his fist around it and uses the one thing he's hidden from his entire family all this time to destroy it. Electricity surges through his body and along his gauntlet; he watches as the comm issues a bit of smoke, then he crushes it, opening his hand and watching the charred pieces fall to the rooftop. 

It's well past time he make it on his own. It's probably laughable that he still wears the Robin colors at all. The truth is, he's had a hard time convincing himself they didn't need him anymore, that they could do this entirely without him. Only a nudge, a clue they would have found on their own – or with Tim's deep perception of this fucked up world they live in – and they'd all be perfectly fine. 

All the same... his heart aches. It's a dull ping somewhere in the depths of his chest; it pulls like anxiety, burns like a pulled muscle and he knows this isn't about his role. This isn't about walking away from Robin. It's about walking away from _someone_. From one person he's never been able to be honest to and has _always_ wanted to. It's about hiding his own little truth away, burying it deeper than this current ache to the point where _that_ doesn't hurt anymore. His powers, the abilities that never went away from when he came back – only changed – were meant to be what hurt to hide. _Not this_. 

Not the stabbing pain in his chest that tells him if he can't see _him_ again, he'll quite simply _die_. The pain he knows is lying to him. 

He won't die. He can live through this and he _will_. 

He's just not sure he wants to.

With a deep breath, he tucks the pain away, just as he's always been taught to, and he makes his way across the rooftop, toward the metal doors that lead down into the stairwell. He smells the smoke before anything else, catches the whiff of the brand, and his thoughts spiral back toward exactly what he was trying to avoid.

His fingertips automatically grasp one of his blades and he carefully slips around the outcropping, prepared for anyone, _anything_... except this.

Jason stands there, a cigarette he's very pointedly not smoking clutched between gloved fingers. His helmet is nowhere to be seen and his mask is dangling from his other hand, and Damian _knows_ he's been caught. 

The glance he throws over his shoulder asks the question of if anyone else is here and the crunch of Jason's boot putting out the cigarette tells him that they're alone. 

It's uneasy, the way he looks back at Jason, the way he waits to be thrown for a complete loop. His heart's in his throat before Jason says a word.

"Did we pass?"

There's a hitch in Damian's stomach that he can't quite stop, a choked little sound on his lips, and he thanks everything that the wind is howling again, rushing between the buildings, blowing their hair wildly as Jason stares at him and Damian hides behind his own mask. 

He can do this. He _has_ to do this.

He parts his dry lips and takes the needed breath. There's fear in his veins, there's pain in his heart, and he'd like to deny the tears that burn in his eyes. 

Three steps and he takes the biggest chance he's ever taken, _trusts_ in a way he never has before. He reaches up and pulls Jason's comm from his ear, holds it flat in his palm, and he lets the electricity slide through his body, lets it fry the comm right in front of Jason's eyes. 

He can see the smile in Jason's eyes before it ever manifests on his lips. He can see the amusement dancing there as he breathes out, "You hid it all this time?"

At his nod, Jason reaches out, hand hovering just above Damian's own, waiting for what seems like permission, and Damian's heart thuds in his chest. 

The comm falls to the ground, crunches underfoot as he closes the distance between them, as Jason folds him into his arms and presses his lips against his ear. "Don't leave... _please_ don't leave."

It's nothing he's ever expected to hear from Jason and it's the only plea that could have ever kept him here. His breath hitches and then his arms are around Jason, his hand's in his hair, and he's a hair's breadth from kissing him, barely holding himself back as everything in his demeanor all but begs for it. 

For a moment there's no reaction at all and then Jason's mouth is warm against his own and Damian presses into him like he's found heaven itself. He clutches and kisses him in such a desperate way that it'd be hopeless for him to say he didn't want this. That it wasn't his biggest desire. 

When they part, it's to the calm at the center of the storm, to the most peaceful moment he's ever been a part of, and it's with relief that he hears Jason's whispered words.

"It's about time."


End file.
